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I laughed deep in my throat, pleased he liked what he saw.
Hands stretching toward me, he hesitated and looked up. “Do I have to ask again?”
Oh fuck. He’s fucking perfect.“You’re such a good boy. I’ll let you get away with it this time.”
He needed no other encouragement, his fingers diving into the coarse black curls at the base of my manhood, his hand so close but so far away.
“I haven’t had hair here for so long,” he murmured, lightly scratching into the groomed curls.
His hands on me felt so good that my voice was nothing but a rumble. “You like it?”
“If it’s on you, I like it.” His voice was almost reverent, and it made my stomach tighten. Fingers trailing out of the hair, they traced downward around the base of my dick and under so he could palm my sack. His fingers moved, massaging me, measuring my weight and size before releasing to wrap around my flustered, sensitive length.
My breath hissed, and my throat convulsed. If I thought I was prepared for his hands, I was dead wrong. Laying my hand over his, I gently pulled him away. “In the shower.”
He kicked the pants from around his ankles and then stepped under the spray, a little groan of satisfaction leaving his lips.
Once my pants were also kicked aside, I stepped in behind him, enclosing us in the steamy, hot space. Water poured over him, sloughing over his shoulders and pecs, catching in the paint, and dragging it over his body, making him look like a watercolor.
Before it could get rinsed away, I plucked the moon off his chest and tossed it out on the floor where I could find it later.
“Do your hair,” I told him, reaching up to cup his head. He tilted it back, the strands saturating immediately, water dragging it away from his face. “Watch your stitches.” I reminded him, cupping one hand over the bandage as I made sure the rest of his hair was wet.
“Maybe you should help me.” He beckoned, and in that moment, I’d have given him anything he asked for, anything at all.
Grasping the shampoo, I drizzled it on his hair and massaged it in while he stood there swaying in pleasure. Suds fell over his ears, plopping onto his shoulders, but he just hummed pleasantly.
“I’m going to smell like you now,” he murmured, eyes closed, smile on his lips.
I loved him so much. So goddamn much.
“I don’t want you smelling like anything else.” I tried to make it a demand, but it came out as a whisper.
“‘Kay.”
My lips rolled inward as I grabbed the body wash and white loofah I had nearby. Squirting too much on the poof, I started at his shoulders, moving in circles, dipping over his chest. Before I even reached them, his nipples puckered so tight I wondered if they hurt. When I brushed the loofah over one, his whole body spasmed as a moan filled the shower stall. With a handful of water, I rinsed the soap off his pec and dipped my head to drag my tongue across the tight bud.
A low curse fell from his lips, and his palm smacked into the shower wall. Without hesitation, I latched back on, this time sucking the entire thing deep into my mouth. He groaned, body trembling as his knees sagged to the floor. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I sucked harder, drawing out a helpless whine.
I sucked and kissed until he writhed against me, then I bit down on the swollen nip. His hips thrust toward me, boner desperate for friction, and a hand delved into my hair to tug. I bit him again and then soothed it with my tongue before latching on to the muscle around it, sucking deep.
He said some shit I didn’t understand and then forced my head over to the other. I gave it the same treatment, sucking, licking, and then biting until his hips snapped at me in frustration.
My scalp ached where he tugged my hair, and my balls ached from my dick being so hard.
When I pulled back, he looked at me with lusty eyes, a glimmer of awe in their depths. “I really thought you’d never love me. Not like this.”
A tsunami of emotion rose inside me, overtaking everything else. The loofah plopped somewhere on the floor, and I bulldozed him into the shower wall, pinning him there with my bigger body. “The only person I’m capable of loving like this is you. You and only you.”
His lower lip wobbled, water-drenched lashes blinking at me. “Say it again, Max.Please.”
Stomach fluttering, I voiced the words only my heart knew. “I love you.”
His hands palmed my ears, and I went to him. We kissed endlessly, lapping at each other as though we might never kiss again, like we could soothe years of pining with a single desperate kiss.
“Nemo,” I chanted between kisses, lifting my head to change the angle and then kissing him all over again. His fingers fell from my ears to clutch needily at my back, nails pricking into my skin bringing a sharpness to the embrace.
We were both breathing heavily when I forced my head back, only to return and lick a droplet of water off his nose. The back of his head rested on the wall I had him pinned against, and his head rolled as though he couldn’t hold it up. The kiss mark from another man was still on his cheek, and seeing it there tinged my vision with red. Bending down, I grabbed the loofah and used the edge to scrub it away.
